All of us keep shining our unconscious awareness into our daytime spaces around us like bats beaming out ultrasound as they navigate their night time environment. And like bats interpreting the reflected echoes of their sonic searches, we are trying to interpret our reflected awareness to make sense of the world around us. But unlike bats, most of us are completely unaware of the meaningful echoes that are bouncing back to us.
The spaces around us are alive with our unconscious transmissions and responses; we tend to think of the spaces surrounding us as being empty and unimportant. We are taught that if it can’t be physically measured and recorded, then it simply doesn’t exist. However to our unconscious awareness, the space that surrounds us is alive with meaning and understanding. It only seems empty because we consciously filter out virtually all the information available to us.
Our symphonies of reflected awareness are routinely lost in cultural and social noise and the self censoring of our own selective vision in waking life. We selectively censor most of what comes back because it’s not rational. It’s not objective. It just doesn’t seem to make sense. In this noisy narrowness it can be difficult to make meaningful sense of what is really happening for us. It’s like trying to make sense of the world peering through a little letter box rather than opening the door and stepping outside.
This little letterboxed picture reflects a world where everything is black and white, right and wrong, good and bad. A world without ambiguity and paradox. So instead of reflecting our illuminations back into the immersive I-MAX of our own unconscious awareness in the form of vivid colour imagery and profoundly connected narrative, we find ourselves trying to objectively interpret a fuzzy little black and white picture swamped in static interference and blizzards of apparently random noise.
The bigger picture reflected from all our unconscious shining seems impossible to make sense of and understand. It can seem huge, overwhelming and unsettling. So we find ourselves ignoring its expansiveness and discarding its richness and just focusing on what we can tangibly measure. But every now and again we catch glimpses and fragments of the bigger picture, as if an untuned television had suddenly locked onto our favourite show.
There often seems to be something profoundly meaningful to us in these accidental glimpses and serendipitous fragments, so we desperately try to make sense of them. But instead of exploring them using our instinctive dream awareness, we usually try to rationalise them at a more analytical level.